


If you need me to, I can hold you down...!

by transgaylord



Category: Psychopath Diary (TV)
Genre: "incomplete" gender transition, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Enemy Lovers, FTM chest binding, FTM hormones, M/M, Missing Scene, Narcissism, Other, Overstimulation, Rope Bondage, Seduction, TW Dysphoria, TW gore fantasy, TW mild knifeplay, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Humiliation, author is transmasc, dubcon elements, ftm/ftm, read the tags for TW's!, using a knife to cut a guy's chest binder off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22586128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transgaylord/pseuds/transgaylord
Summary: SPOILERS for episode 14Sometimes you need to be bound, and you need to be tied down! They are two distinct things. Seo In-woo is gonna learn all about those two distinct things tonight. And Yook Dong-sik is gonna be the teacher, despite the fact that he's dumb and has no idea what he's doing.... Well, he's seen it plenty of times in movies!I write them both as trans guys, FTM. "cut from the same cloth" indeed!Inspired by a song: "Arrest Me" by Shy Girls
Relationships: Seo Inwoo/Yook Dongsik
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NoxDWN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoxDWN/gifts).



Seo In-woo just wanted to sleep a little bit longer. Feel this feeling just a little bit longer. It had been a while since he last felt like this, so warm and comfortable, like a long-haired cat stretched out beside a fireplace.

So comfortable, and so warm. Almost TOO warm. As if somebody draped a thick woolen blanket over the sleeping animal. What kind of idiot... Don't they understand what fur is for...? In-woo's face twitched with annoyance.

It was too hot. And the smell was wrong. Not his home, not the company building, and certainly not the Seo family's cozy but dignified (much like a long-haired cat!) cabin in the woods. So where the hell...

Suddenly Seo In-woo sat bolt upright. Fuck. His hands were bound. Fuck!

In a moment of panic he tugged at the ropes, violently. He regretted this immediately. It hurt his wrists, and he probably just tugged the damn thing tighter. His ankles were bound together too, with all of that tied to the frame of the bed. His knees were slightly bent and splayed apart, which had been so comfortable in sleep and still was comfortable, but now seemed ridiculous. He looked, and he felt, absolutely ridiculous.

Seo In-woo scowled at his own reflection on the surface of his immaculately polished shoes. The reflection scowled right back at him. He was indoors, in bed- TIED to a bed, but still fully dressed for the winter cold. At least now he knew why he felt so absurdly warm and toasty. The big black wool coat, and the smaller black jacket, also wool, and the black cashmere-blend turtleneck. Sensible cold-weather suit pants- black, of course- with a brand new bespoke black leather belt. The belt had looked so damn slick when he was getting ready in the morning, but looking back it was a foolish, vain mistake. He should have picked out a belt he's owned for a while, the leather turned soft and somewhat malleable.

There was only one more piece of clothing more bothersome than In-woo's stiff belt- the full-length chest binder. But he wouldn't even spare a second thought to this garment, or else he'd fly into a rage right where he lay.

So his mind returned to the belt, griping. This fucking belt. He didn't even remember what designer it was from, and he was in no position to push two layers of fabric aside and examine the buckle for branded shapes or insignias. Then he took a moment to survey the room around him, with a soft focus in his eyes. A hospital? But then why was he... His body. Such a ridiculous pose. The thick white rope and messy but intricate knots. It almost reminded him of something else... Though alone in the room, he suddenly felt extremely self-conscious.

He squirmed around, testing the range of motion in his legs. He could bend his knees comfortably, but there was no room to stretch his legs. He could press them together, but he couldn't rest his thighs down on the mattress without contorting himself in a strange way. It caused his back to arch, obscenely. In-woo felt his face go hot.

Annoyed, ashamed, embarrassed, Seo In-woo placed his hips back down on the mattress and pressed his knees together tight. But somehow this pose felt even more obscene. And his body was hot, too hot.. And curling himself up like a startled pillbug (a filthy arthropod that looks like an insect and moves like a worm- truly the worst of both worlds!) only made the heat feel more suffocating. Besides, it was undignified.

Staring at the ugly paneled ceiling with a sour frown on his face, Seo In-woo slowly spread his knees apart. Lying there pliant, like a patient waiting for... some sort of exam, In-woo was starting to seriously question his own notions of what is "dignified" or not. And there was something else, something decidedly undignified, going on underneath his clothes. More warmth, but a pleasant warmth. The lower body buzzing like a machine. It felt good, so good is was _disgusting_. And somehow, even with all his limbs tied down, it felt like total freedom. Like piloting a speedboat alone on calm, open waters.

If In-woo were alone at home, he would have jumped immediately into action, putting this fleeting feeling to good use. At home he has his precious collection of antique weapons, but also another collection- a smaller collection, used much more frequently. A big black box of wonderful, rude and nasty-looking toys, hidden where the maids won't find it. You thought "ten-speed" and "eighteen-speed" are terms reserved for sports bicycles? Wrong. The largest, most expensive vibrator in that box has _twenty_ speeds.

Truly, a reasonable sort of thing for a bachelor to own. It was somehow confounding to him that his peers in the elite class would brag about how much they spent on rings, vacation homes, vehicles, weddings and event spaces- but not their personal devices. Some of these are very high-tech, very recent...! Well, they are a bunch of unreasonable idiots, who think its shameful to be alone. Seo In-woo is a logical, reasonable man. Therefore, if his body screams out to be fucked and pleasured, he will indulge it, if only to keep it at bay for another hour. He would accept the precious gift that he was given by the all-powerful force of natural selection. Not many men can boast to have this powerful, incomprehensible, sweet-tasting reservoir barely contained in a mortal body.

And certainly, not many men can brag about how easy it is, on a good day, to slide something in and get busy without ever uncapping a bottle of lube. No need to risk getting that too-cold odd-textured inorganic crap smeared all over his bedsheets. Not even all transgender men can boast this- at some point, when you take testosterone to transition, your body forgets how to get wet and learns how to be thick and hard.

In-woo had forgotten the power once. But eventually he became satisfied (or rather, fed up) with the course of his treatment, and he ceased the injections. Soon enough, his body remembered. And sometimes, when In-woo doubted his resolve to abstain from hormone treatment, he reassured himself in fond reminiscence of that night. Records blasting with the Russian classics, and the smell of sweat and much champagne- a departure from his usual choice of blood-red wine.

But then he heard a noise, and was rudely dragged back into the present moment. Suddenly he could smell the hospital-like room again, and his stomach dropped like a stone. The door, just beyond Seo In-woo's field of vision, creaked open slowly.


	2. Chapter 2

When Yook Dong-sik entered the room, his face was streaked with tears – overwhelmed, it seems, by the knife he held tight in one trembling hand. But the teardrops seemed to freeze on his face when he saw the way In-woo was looking at him. Dong-sik was frozen, perplexed, like a deer in the headlights.

Seo In-woo couldn't blame him. In-woo knew exactly what his own facial expression looked like, because he had practiced it many times in the mirror. The mouth slightly open, the jaw slightly tense. The drooping eyelids and the head tilted back to expose more of his pale throat, which unfortunately was mostly concealed beneath his fine black turtleneck. He had practiced this look many times in the mirror, but not as practice for a real-world seduction. It was for himself to enjoy, alone – the sight of a tall, lithe, and dreadfully handsome man leering back at him with a silent invitation.

It was for In-woo, alone, to admire – until now.

But Yook Dong-sik didn't seem to appreciate the gravity of this rare event. He sniffed and hiccuped, and used the side of his sleeve (from the hand holding the knife – how irresponsible!) to wipe the tears that were drying on his cheeks. His shocked expression changed to confusion, and he spoke, with overly formal language:

"Mister Seo In-woo, Director, Sir. I do not understand why you are making that face at me."

In-woo's reply was immediate. "Come closer. You'll find out."

Yook Dong-sik's eyes widened, and he grimaced in what looked like a mixture of amusement and horror. Then he shook his head vehemently, his ridiculous mop of K-pop-idol-wannabe hair flopping from side to side.

"No..." Dong-sik took a step backward. "No. No, no no no. I know how this plays out. I'm not going to get any closer to you, you.... murderer...!"

In-woo grinned. It seemed that Dong-sik was struggling to think of a proper insult, and instead settled on the most obvious thing in the world. A mere statement of fact, a validation, almost a compliment to a man like Seo In-woo.

"Yook Dong-sik." In-woo tugged slightly at the ropes around his wrists, flexing his hands menacingly. "You will come closer to me, _right now_ , or you will live to regret it."

There was a pause while Yook Dong-sik just stared at In-woo. It seems he had forgotten why he was crying in the first place. Then he scrunched up his face and eyebrows ( _so cute,_ In-woo thought) and clutched the knife close to his chest, like it was an ice cream cone that he didn't want to share.

"No. You don't want me; you just want my knife. You're going to escape somehow and grab it from me and stab me a million times and kill me." Dong-sik sniffed, with contempt this time, not from his earlier crying. "Nope. I will stand _right here_ where I am currently, and, uh... interrogate you. Yes, interrogate."

Then Dong-sik muttered something incomprehensible to himself, and looked into the air as if there was a movie script floating in midair over his shoulder. Dong-sik's face fluttered through a wide range of emotions before settling on a frown that was cold and menacing. Seeing this, In-woo couldn't hold back a bitter laugh – _he looks even more insane than me._

"Dong-sik." In-woo licked his lips, at the risk of appearing cheesy rather than sexy, and shifted slightly in the fake hospital bed. "We both know there's something else you want from me. Come and get it."

"Am I understanding this right...?" Dong-sik spoke slowly as he placed the knife carefully on an empty white shelf, reasonably far away from In-woo's bed. "Are you really trying to _seduce_ me right now?"

"Don't play dumb," In-woo spat, nearing the end of his patience. "You tied me down. It turned me on. Take responsibility."

"Holy shit..." Dong-sik stared dumbly at In-woo, in disbelief. "But you don't know anything about me."

"I know more than you think!"

Yook Dong-sik stared at In-woo with wide, sad eyes, and bit his lip nervously.

"Do... you know I'm trans? ...Do you even know what that _means_?”

“Yes, Dong-sik.” In-woo let out a sigh of relief. Finally, they were making some progress!

“ _How?_ ” Dong-sik seemed displeased with In-woo’s answer.

“All prospective employees of Daehan Securities are thoroughly background-checked.”

Dong-sik seemed to be _extremely_ displeased with this second answer. For a moment, In-woo’s heart raced with panic. He was trying to seduce the man, not offend him... he needed to fix this, and fast, before the wonderful arousal in his body could fall away like the grains in an hourglass.

“Certain medical records of yours are viewable publicly. But that’s something I can help you with, Dong-sik!” In-woo lifted his eyebrows, making that soft, gentle, concerned face that he sometimes uses to manipulate people. “My records were destroyed and replaced. I could do the same for yours.”

This would have been a good time for In-woo to say “I’m also trans,” three little words that might have smoothed out the situation in an instant. But the words didn’t come out – there was some sort of psychological barrier, like when In-woo tried to say the names of his own biological parts. The V-word, the other V-word, the C-word, and especially not the P-word. He just couldn’t force himself to say it.

Dong-sik pondered for a moment, then scoffed and put his hands on his hips. "Now you're offering favors in exchange for sex? That's really not something I'm into."

“No! Fuck. It’s not like that...” In-woo tried to bang his head against the bed in frustration, but instead it sank comfortably into a pillow. Dong-sik must have placed it carefully beneath his head, when he was tying the ropes. “I just _want_ you! Really badly, want you...”

Yook Dong-sik raised an eyebrow. “Now you’re _begging_ me for sex? Isn’t that kind of pathetic?”

Begging? Seo In-woo considered the implications of this word. Then remembered the soft, unguarded expression that he still wore on his face, and suddenly felt himself blush. It must have looked like he was giving Yook Dong-sik the “puppy-dog eyes.” How undignified!

“I’m not...” In-woo’s voice trailed off, and he stared at the ceiling, his face growing hotter and hotter. And his lower body was growing hotter, too – significantly hotter. Who would have guessed that the level-headed and professional Seo In-woo gets off on being _degraded_? Certainly, In-woo himself wouldn’t have guessed it.

And then Yook Dong-sik took a step towards the bed, and In-woo suddenly realized that he was in waaay over his head. This was all new to him. Terrifyingly new.

Feeling like he was unable to do anything else, In-woo squeezed his eyes shut and waited, his breath hitching in anticipation, as the sound of Dong-sik’s footsteps came closer.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're blushing, so I know it's real..."

Dong-sik was speaking so softly. In-woo remained silent, kept his eyes shut, and shivered.

"...Before, I didn't know if it was real." His voice was so close now. "And I still can't really tell if you're _really_ enjoying it, or you're just embarrassed."

Dong-sik laid a hand on the bound man's knee, gently, curling his fingers around the shape. It felt good to In-woo, but not satisfying.

"You deserve to be embarrassed," Dong-sik muttered, as if speaking to himself and not to In-woo. "Fine. I'll _embarrass_ you."

With that, Dong-sik took the hand off his knee and instead cupped it around his––

In-woo gasped, and his knees instinctively tried to slam together. But Dong-sik's wrist was in the way. Breathing shakily, In-woo made an effort to spread his legs apart again. Then he opened his eyes, and confirmed – it was no hallucination. Yook Dong-sik really was here, with him, touching him, _there._ He moaned, and was surprised to feel tears welling up in his eyes. It just felt so _good_.

If you're acting, you're doing a great job," Dong-sik observed. "I almost believe it."

"It's real...!"

Then Dong-sik pressed down just a little bit more firmly, and it was like pressing a button. The sensation spread like molten lava through In-woo’s body, radiating outward from that point. In-woo made a noise like a sob or a whimper, and then spoke without giving himself permission to:

“I could _come_ from just this... I really could... Fuck, Dong-sik...”

“I...” Dong-sik trailed off, then positioned himself more securely over In-woo, with his free arm braced against the frame of the bed. “...I would like to see you try. I would like that a lot.”

"I'll do anything...!"

"...But aren't you hot, wearing all that?" Dong-sik suddenly changed the subject. Then he pulled his hand away, and In-woo mourned for a moment, missing that overwhelming feeling. But soon In-woo came back to his senses, and realized, _yes_ – he was burning up all over, like a fever. And his throat was dry. He desperately needed a drink of water. 

As if reading his mind, Dong-sik hurried away and filled a paper cup, from an office-style water dispenser in the far corner of the room. He walked back towards the bed, but stopped for a moment to mess with a white dial on the wall. He was lowering the thermostat. In-woo felt a pang of fondness in his heart, as if Dong-sik had reached into his ribcage and squeezed that fragile thing. Then Dong-sik returned to the side of the bed, with a pitying look in his eyes.

Dong-sik gently pressed the paper cup against In-woo's lips. "Drink the whole thing, okay?"

In-woo craned his neck upward and took a drink. But the water, the _quality_ of the water was... not what Seo In-woo was accustomed to. He made a disgusted face, and some water dribbled off of his chin and soaked into his turtleneck.

"...What? Because it's not _Icelandic_ , or some crap?? Or it's not _perfectly chilled_ for you?" Yook Dong-sik huffed. "Well, this is how the other half lives. Now drink it, and then I'll take your clothes off."

In-woo's eyebrows shot upwards. He couldn't possibly refuse a deal like that. So when Dong-sik brought the cup to his lips again, he swallowed enthusiastically. But he tried to drink too quickly – he coughed and choked a little, and more water spilled onto his neck. Dong-sik made a displeased noise, but he didn’t even try to mop it up. He just tipped the rest of the water into In-woo’s mouth, then crushed the paper cup and shoved it into the pocket of his own puffy black winter coat. 

Then, with both hands free, he reached for In-woo’s belt buckle. In-woo’s heart raced, and he squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the quiet clinking of metal and the tug of leather around his narrow waist. The belt slid away, and Dong-sik wrestled open the button and zipper of In-woo’s pants. Then, wasting no more time, Dong-sik yanked the helpless man’s pants and underwear down to his mid-thighs. In-woo lifted his hips to make it easier, and Dong-sik yanked the fabric down again, past his knees. In-woo bit his lip and squirmed, suddenly cold from the air-conditioning.

“You’re wet,” Dong-sik observed. “We aren’t going to need any lube.”

“Good,” In-woo groaned, watching through half-lidded eyes as Dong-sik pushed aside the black wool coat and unbuttoned In-woo’s suit jacket. Then Dong-sik pulled up the black turtleneck to expose the flesh-tone chest binder. Dong-sik huffed in displeasure, but seemed sympathetic. He dropped his own coat onto the ground, then turned and walked away from the bed, toward the plain white shelf where he’d stashed the knife.

“I’m going to cut that thing off of you,” He said with his back turned.

In-woo’s breath stopped. Dong-sik approached him, grasping the large knife, looking frightfully sexy with an expression of cold determination on his face. It was hard to imagine that he’d been crying mere minutes before, and In-woo’s lower body heated up, just like it had when Dong-sik accused him of “begging” earlier.

So, the fearsome Seo In-woo gets off on being tied down, insulted, and now from being approached with a deadly weapon. Who would’ve thought.

Dong-sik pulled upward at the collar of In-woo’s binder, and sliced downward with the knife in his other hand. Or rather, he sawed downward, because the knife wasn’t particularly sharp. In-woo held his breath, his heart racing – he felt like a deer being butchered, stretched, skinned alive. The fabric gradually curled away from In-woo’s body, and then Dong-sik ripped the rest of it away.

In-woo let out a shaky breath, and closed his eyes again. He knew exactly what he looked like, even though he couldn’t bear to actually look. In-woo was totally exposed from the collarbone to the knees, dissected, like an animal with its pelt all bunched up and peeled toward the edges. More like meat than a mammal, he thought. The room was cold, and In-woo whimpered when he realized that his nipples were hard. And he realized that he wanted Dong-sik to touch him. Anywhere, everywhere, gentle or rough, with his hands, his lips, his _tongue_ , maybe, and _teeth_...

But then In-woo heard Dong-sik’s footsteps walking away.

In-woo’s eyes flew open, and he panicked. “Yook Dong-sik! You’re just going to _leave_ me like this??!!”

Dong-sik paused, then turned back and regarded In-woo a quizzical expression. “...No. Actually, I was going to wash my hands, and put this knife away. But now that you mention it, maybe I _should_ just leave you here.”

Seo In-woo froze up, in abject horror.

"I'm just kidding! Aishhhhh, so sensitive..." Dong-sik scoffed, and resumed his walk to the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes. You don't need to be such a _needy slut_ about it."

With that, Yook Dong-sik was gone, and the door slammed shut.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for this chapter: Blackmail

The man who entered the room was wearing a plain white plastic mask, with oval-shaped holes for eyes, two little holes for nostrils, and a thin horizontal slit for a mouth. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, and let it fall shut behind him as he pulled on a pair of powder-blue disposable gloves. Then he slowly approached the bed, holding his hands up awkwardly like a surgeon about to begin an operation.

“What the fuck is this,” Seo In-woo tried to ask. But it came out as a broken whisper.

The man was silent, and kept walking closer. It was still Yook Dong-sik, obviously– but In-woo wasn’t used to seeing the young salaryman in casual clothing instead of a business suit, and the straps of the mask squished down the silhouette of his fluffy hair into something unfamiliar. It was scary. Terrifying.

In-woo tore his eyes away from the dark eye-holes and instead stared at the ceiling, body tense and ropes pulled taut. He ground his teeth in his impatience, and he was shivering, more so from the air-conditioning than from arousal. It had been torture, waiting for Yook Dong-sik to return from washing his hands. Humiliation– In-woo’s body tied down and exposed, clothing peeled up to his shoulders and down to his knees. Discomfort– from the cold, and from the vulgar appearance of his own bare chest, reacting to the cold. Anticipation– it took so fucking long, as if Dong-sik had decided to scrub underneath each of his fingernails, 20 seconds apiece, and yet he STILL decided to wear those ugly disposable gloves.

Then the masked man crawled up onto the bed and straddled In-woo's hips. On his hands and knees he loomed over In-woo’s body, leering at him through the dark oval eye-holes. In-woo arched his back, wanting to get closer.

“Whore,” Dong-sik muttered, barely intelligible behind the mask. He slid his hands behind In-woo's back and held him there. "Yeah. Stay like that."

In-woo let out a quiet _"mmh"_ as his eyes fell shut. The firm touch felt nice, even with the stickiness of the gloves. With some of his weight supported from underneath, he felt safe and secure, perhaps more than he'd ever felt in his life.

"I'm sorry about the mask. It's 'cause of the security camera," Dong-sik explained in a quiet voice, bringing the mouth-slit of his mask close to In-woo's ear. "But you don't _get_ a mask, Seo In-woo."

"Hehehe, I _know!!"_ In-woo surprised himself by _giggling_. His body was pleasantly hot again, and despite his predicament all he felt was glee and excitement. "Who are you gonna.... heh. Who are you gonna sell the footage to? I know several people who might be interested, real big names... Heh heh......."

"To _NOBODY_ , if you _behave,"_ Dong-sik said threateningly, and pressed the cold hard plastic mask against the side of In-woo's head. "For the rest of your _life_."

"Sounds fine to me..." In-woo trailed off dreamily. His hips were pulled flush against Dong-sik's clothed body, and the gentle rasp of cotton and denim was driving him _crazy_.

Dong-sik scoffed, and his grip tightened, promising to leave some bruises around In-woo's waist. "You're a fucking freak."

In-woo laughed maniacally. "I _know_...!"

Dong-sik pulled away (the laughing must have hurt his ears), and dropped In-woo back onto the bed. The impact was pleasant, softened by the pillow behind In-woo's head. He sighed, smiling, and looked up at Dong-sik through half-lidded eyes. He waited patiently for the masked man's next move, no longer frustrated by the anticipation, but _thrilled_ by it.

It was good that In-woo chose _that moment_ to relax and loosen up, because that's when Dong-sik finally slipped in his middle finger. The angle was perfect– there was no pain, almost no sensation even, until Dong-sik curled his finger and rubbed upwards, causing In-woo to _mewl_ with pleasure. 

"...You like that, huh?"

In-woo could only pant wordlessly in response, his hips bucking to meet the thrusts of Dong-sik's finger. It was frantic, wet, and messy, and In-woo could do nothing to suppress the vulgar noises that his body made.

But then Dong-sik's hand went totally still, with the one finger still buried deep inside. In-woo whined in disappointment, and began to grind down against the heel of Dong-sik's hand, slippery with In-woo's fluids.

"Can you come from just this?"

"I don't know...!" In-woo sobbed and squirmed desperately, trying to get some friction.

" _Stay down_." Dong-sik spoke sternly, and his free hand pressed In-woo's abdomen down into the mattress.

In-woo's whole body trembled, thrilled by the rough treatment. Momentarily forgetting Dong-sik's attempts to hide his identity from the security camera, he wailed " _Dong-sik-ssi...!"_

Dong-sik suddenly pulled his finger out of In-woo, and clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"Please!" In-woo sobbed.

"Who is this Dong-sik-ssi?" The masked man asked, tilting his head. "My name is Voorhees."


	5. Chapter 5

"...Voorhees?" In-woo asked weakly.

"Jason Voorhees! From that old horror movie. You don't recognize the mask?" Dong-sik scoffed, and patted In-woo's cheek with a gloved hand, his middle finger still wet. "Well, there will be plenty of time for you to watch all the classic slasher movies, once you're living with me."

"Once I'm... what...?"

"Don't worry about it!" Dong-sik said cheerfully, and began to crawl off of the bed. "You won't be in jail for long. We'll plead insanity. Or maybe we can frame someone."

"... _We?_ "

Dong-sik pulled off the Voorhees mask and smiled, looking smug. "Now I'm going to give you the best head you've ever had in your life. And I get the vibe that you're new at this, so the record won't be so difficult to break."

The mask clattered to the ground and Dong-sik began to untie the thick white rope from In-woo's ankles.

"What's this about _we?"_ In-woo asked in a pleading voice.

"I said don't worry about it!" Dong-sik insisted, and met In-woo's eye with a soft smile. "I'm going to _protect_ you, Seo In-woo."

The ropes finally fell away, and In-woo was able to flex his ankles to prevent them from cramping. However, Dong-sik didn't bother to remove In-woo's shoes and socks, or the pants crumpled down below his knees, or the undone belt that dangled uselessly from the belt loops. In-woo's hands were still tied down, and both of his arms had gone numb.

"Are you flexible?" Dong-sik asked, but didn't wait for an answer. He grasped In-woo behind the knees and lifted both of his legs, bending In-woo's skinny body almost in half, exposing him in an unspeakably lewd position. Then Dong-sik laughed, a deep boyish giggle. "Wow, you _are..._!"

The look on Dong-sik's face changed into something predatory, as he removed his latex gloves and threw them onto the floor. He crawled onto the bed and held In-woo's long skinny legs in place. Then he took a moment to admire the view, and In-woo's face grew hotter. The air in the room was cold on the backs of In-woo's thighs, so it was comforting when Dong-sik's warm, bare hands began to stroke and squeeze them.

"You're so cute," Dong-sik said quietly, as if in awe. "I could touch you like this for hours."

"But you said..."

"Hm?"

In-woo's heart beat wildly, and he pulled his knees up closer to his chest, hiding his blushing face from Dong-sik. He stayed silent, embarrassed. Such a lewd position... And it was cold, and In-woo's inner thighs were coated with slick.

"Oh, you want my mouth on you?" Yook Dong-sik spoke, and In-woo could tell that he was grinning.

"Yes, you imbecile!!" In-woo finally lost his patience. "Stop making me wait! I'll kill you!"

In-woo expected to hear a snarky retort from Dong-sik, but instead he felt Dong-sik's tongue press gently against his clit. His eyes fell shut and he gasped. It was so warm.

Dong-sik hummed, a little happy noise accompanied by a pleasant vibration, and then pressed his head forward. His lips formed a seal around the little package, and his tongue just barely slipped into-

"Fuck...!"

" _Mmmmph?"_ Dong-sik made a confused noise.

"Do it...! Fuck me. Fuck me!"

Dong-sik obeyed, opened his jaw wide and pressed his tongue in as deep as it would go. In-woo cried out, and his body spasmed at the intrusion, as if unsure whether he liked it. But in In-woo's mind and in his heart, he knew that he _loved_ it. And he wanted Dong-sik to _keep going_ , even if it became too much.

"Is it too much?" Dong-sik stopped to ask, and in response In-woo growled like an animal.

Dong-sik quickly got the message and resumed his work. He found a slow, lazy pace, alternating, sucking on In-woo's most sensitive part and dipping his tongue into In-woo's most shameful place. His motions were so gentle, but In-woo twitched and whined as if he were being cruelly tortured. His hair was certainly a mess by now, from tossing his head from side to side on the pillow.

Soon, even though Dong-sik didn't move any faster, In-woo began to feel everything much more intensely. Every touch of Dong-sik's tongue to his clit made his hips buck violently, and the choked gasps coming out of In-woo's throat were unrecognizable as his own voice. His vision blurred with tears. He strained against the thick white ropes that held his wrists to the sides of the bed, as if he wanted to escape – but truly, he didn't. He was sweating, and the bunched-up winter clothing around his arms, neck, and ankles made it even worse. As he suffered in overwhelming pleasure, he faintly wished that he were naked, and wished that Dong-sik were naked as well. He wished that Dong-sik would press his body close to his and fuck him _properly_ , pressing their sensitive parts together, like stray dogs rutting in an alleyway. He sobbed and convulsed under Dong-sik's mouth, wishing that Dong-sik would take his own pleasure as well.

And then it was over. In-woo lay there, panting, with tears streaming down his face. Dong-sik loosened the grip of his hands behind In-woo's knees, and gently lowered his trembling legs down onto the bed. Kneeling between In-woo's splayed knees, Dong-sik had a dazed expression on his face. His gaze wandered from In-woo's wet and reddened core, and over his bare chest and belly, and then to In-woo's mouth, and then finally they made eye contact. In-woo was exhausted beyond words, but still Dong-sik looked at him as if expecting something more.

Dong-sik's face twitched and then settled into an expression that was dark and determined.

"I won't let them take you."

In-woo just whimpered in response, and flinched when Dong-sik trailed his fingers over In-woo's chest.

"You've put me through _too much_ , you bastard..." Dong-sik's voice was soft, but his words were harsh and his glare was icy. "I won't let them punish you. If _anyone's_ going to be punishing you, it's going to be _ME_ , Seo In-woo..."

In-woo's heart fluttered, and he smiled, weakly. To be punished by Yook Dong-sik... It didn't sound so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> uuuuooooooouuuh.


End file.
